I am a great and terrible house keeper

No, it’s true. It just depends on the week… okay, month, you catch me in.  I’m about to hit my tolerance and go on a cleaning spree.  After all, my clean sheets are on the dining room table (the other set, okay, I have two!), along with some random pieces of male undergarments, sort of my fault, I dumped them there when I took them out of the dryer one night, but the other adult in the house hasn’t seen fit to take them upstairs either.

We do have some clean dishes, but no clean counter-tops.  My half-loaf of bread grew some small green colonies the last couple of days.  And my kitchen rug is getting mildewy in the washing machine.  One dog, who shall remain unnamed  puked on my kitchen rug (although she thoughtfully rolled the rug back over it so that it wasn’t quit so gross looking… until I tried to straighten the rug out…) and I promptly put the rug in the wash with a good amount of detergent and vinegar.  That was yesterday.  No, wait, Wednesday… okay, so I think it was Tuesday.  And I just realized that the rug is in the washing machine still.

Which is going to set me off on a cleaning spree  (if I stop taking pictures and blogging, that is).  And I’ll get everything spic and span, neat as all get out, and I’ll be very meticulous about keeping it that way and making the bed every day for at least a week… sometimes two… and then I’ll get busy, or I’ll leave some dirty dishes in the sink overnight, and then I just won’t feel like doing them, or making the bed is just too much in the morning, all 95 seconds of my day that it consumes… and the next thing you know we’re back to boxers on the table and mildewing rugs in the washer.

(Boxers as in undies, not this boxer… he doesn’t get on tables, he just drools on them.  And begs for scrambled eggs)

(See what I mean by drooling? He’s very talented at this.)

DROOL

But really, I’m a good housekeeper.  Sort of like I’m an early riser.  At heart that is.  I mean,there’s definitely this romantic idea of waking up early and watching the sun rise with my morning coffee on my front porch, all serene and everything.

Of course, I’ve never actually done that.  The few times I get up before the sun it’s only for very good reasons and always because I have to go somewhere in a hurry.

Besides, my mop and mop bucket are on my front porch.

’nuff said.